


Scaring the Shadow of Garreg Mach

by PirateQueenCatherine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Pre-Time Skip, Spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27312754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateQueenCatherine/pseuds/PirateQueenCatherine
Summary: The students of Garreg Mach are putting on a Halloween party, but Bernadetta, the monastery's own horror expert (as long as it's written, so she doesn't get too scared!) wants to use it to give one certain man a scare. With an elaborate plot to scare Hubert von Vestra, a man whose Halloween vibes last all year round, what could go wrong?
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Scaring the Shadow of Garreg Mach

**Author's Note:**

> I've tagged this as partially being Bernadetta/Hubert because this is absolutely the start of their relationship. They're not a couple here but...I think you'll see. Also mild mention of Marihilda.

The Church of Seiros did not approve of Halloween. “A desecration of the saints,” Seteth would say.

And yet it was something of an open secret that the students of Garreg Mach would put together some sort of celebration. The exact extent to it differed from year to year, depending on the effort they (and usually some of the professors, Hanneman was an avid fan of it, even if he insisted on calling it All Hallow’s Eve) put in. One time it was a small camping trip for select students to tell spooky stories, but another had turned into legend, the year students put all their magic skills together to bring a bloody rain down on the monastery. Rhea was furious, the tradition died down for some years after that.

Nobody was even sure it really happened though, and Rhea refused to talk about it any time someone gathered the courage to ask her directly.

This year was to be a small party. One to unite the houses in some way, each one nominating a representative who would assist in organising the dining hall into a spooky party room. Live music, scary decorations, and, at Lysithea’s demands, sweets. 

From Golden Deer, Ignatz. From Blue Lions, Sylvain, although Annette had demanded to have a greater role than just participant in the final affair. And from Black Eagle, Dorothea had offered to help out in creating small decorations for the tables. If Ignatz could paint banners, Dorothea could create cobwebs, accessories, and fake spiders to hide around, while Sylvain put in the physical labour to put everything together, it could be a great party.

But they were not the only ones planning a surprise.

You see, when asked about Halloween, Hubert von Vestra would be the first person to come to mind. His presence already exuded shadows, if he threw a cloak over himself and turned into a bat nobody would be surprised. But he wasn’t quite in the Halloween spirit.

“I’m sure I can find far more terrifying and real things in Garreg Mach than spiders and pumpkins.” He’d say whenever someone asked if he’d put on a costume. It was as if Halloween wasn’t scary enough for the man.

It was unsurprising that somebody took this as a challenge. It was far more surprising that the person who chose themselves to take up the mantle of scaring Hubert was Bernadetta von Varley.

You see, there’s a power in being scared of your own free will. Theory of abjection, of a catharsis in expelling feelings through the confrontation of that which terrifies or disgusts you. There was nobody more in need of this catharsis on a regular basis than Bernadetta, although Hubert wasn’t far behind her.

Under the cover of darkness, she would often hide away in the library, scaring herself to sleep with stories, sometimes fictional, sometimes true. And in her room, she had written them herself, stories of terrible creatures, cruel fates, and inhuman deeds. 

While she was certainly not an intimidating presence, nobody else knew better how to create something that could scare even Hubert von Vestra. 

And so while Ignatz, Sylvain, and Dorothea organised the main hall, Bernadetta (with some help from Petra, who was partially in on it to see the look on Hubert’s face whether it succeeded or not) organised the gazebo and greenhouse. 

She had come up with an elaborate plan. One that would scare anyone. Nothing cruel, there was no threat to his (nor Edelgard’s, for that matter) life, that would be cheating. If she were to simply rope in Edelgard and discover through her his greatest fears it would become all too easy. It simply needed to be _purely_ terrifying, to anyone who experienced it. 

Bernadetta was not much of an actor though. She needed volunteers. Thankfully, the Black Eagles were more than willing to assist.

* * *

It began with Caspar. He was the least trustworthy of the group, Bernadetta had to admit. The sort of person who’d ruin the surprises entirely by blurting something out, as adorable as a trait it was. 

The party had already started by the time plans were set in motion. Unsurprisingly, Hubert didn’t show up, but Bernadetta waited in the shadows outside to see when he’d walk past. And the moment he did, she signalled for Caspar to start. 

Near the gazebo, he roared with laughter. Enough that it was hard to tell whether he laughed or screamed. It piqued Hubert’s curiosity. Not enough to involve himself, but enough to nudge his direction towards the gazebo, looking around the corner at what was happening.

Under the gazebo, Caspar was laughing at Linhardt’s costume. Unsurprisingly for the sleepy boy, it was a bedsheet. 

“Hubert! Come over here, look at Lin!” Caspar cried out, rushing over and not giving him a choice about whether he’d walk over or not as he took Hubert’s arm. 

“Very good, Linhardt.” Hubert groaned dismissively, rolling his eyes. “A ghost. Very good. And you, Caspar, you’re…”

“A vampire!” He exclaimed, baring his teeth to show two fake fangs. 

“A vampire. Very good. Terrifying.” Hubert spun on his heel as if to leave, while Linhardt lifted his sheet to talk.

This was the first scare of the night. Bernadetta knew Hubert would think little of these costumes, and would quickly try to leave, so she put together a surprise underneath Linhardt’s sheet.

“And what are you meant to be, Hubert?” Lin asked, innocently, trying to encourage him to turn back.

“According to the rumours, a master of sha…” It worked. Hubert turned back and was stopped in his tracks. Linhardt, underneath the sheet, had some truly gruesome makeup on. His face was bloodied, makeup making it look like bone was exposed through the flesh of his cheek, a black tar-like substance leaking from his lips. In daylight it was obvious, but in the late evening, underneath a sheet? It was hard to tell it wasn’t real. 

The man grimaced. 

“I’ll hand it to you, Linhardt, lowering expectations with the sheet and revealing your face is vile. Wonderful job.” His voice was still as dismissive as before, but that wasn’t the scare. That was just part one. Something to rattle the man. 

“See!” Caspar cried, laughing again, this time at Hubert’s reaction. “Bernie did such a good job!”

“I’ll make sure you compliment our budding necromancer.”

* * *

Step one went without a hitch. Except for the butterflies in Bernadetta’s stomach that she struggled to hide when she heard Hubert mentioning complimenting her from behind a wall she hid behind. 

The next part of the plan would come after: leading Hubert away from the party and towards the greenhouse. This was the tough part to plan, she needed something that would capture his interest to willingly go over, it was too far for something as crude as Caspar brute forcing Hubert into a conversation. 

She had decided that this part required her own input.

Putting on her best acting, Bernadetta stumbled around the corner ‘just in time’ to catch Hubert as he turned to leave. 

“Sorry!” She mumbled, bumping into Caspar and Linhardt and rushing out. Her costume was simple, much like Caspar’s, just a witch’s hat and some eyeshadow Dorothea had so kindly applied. “Sorry, I just, uhm, I need to go-”

“Bernadetta, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Hubert asked, holding an arm out to stop her in her tracks. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes! Yes. Uhm. No. Yes? No. I think there’s something wrong in the greenhouse.”

“The greenhouse? It should be locked up for the night.”

“Yes! I have the key, uhm, I’m just, a little worried? I planted some deadly nightshade recently and, well, uhm, I think someone might have picked it by accident?”

“Oh dear.”

“And! Well! I wanted to go check just in case. See if there’s anything missing.”

“Lady Bernadetta, you should really signpost things when you start planting poisonous plants in the greenhouse. Need I remind you of our conversation about rushing around at night in the dark while holding metal objects, too?”

It was tough for Bernadetta to maintain composure. There was nobody more terrifying to lie to in Garreg Mach, and there was a moment where she thought she’d crack in that. But with a deep breath - one she hoped was read as a sign of her anxieties - she stepped forward.

  
“You can come with, if you’d like, Hubert, I just want to make sure in case anyone gets hurt!”

“I’d like to see this nightshade, and I’d rather like to make sure you don’t run into anybody else. Lead the way.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

No Halloween scare would be complete without some special effects. And so with the help of Lysithea (who refused to take an acting role, but was more than willing to create illusions), the greenhouse and fishing pier were covered in a light mist, the kind that wouldn’t dissipate when walked through. It would simply cling to your legs, the sort of thing where you couldn’t tell if you were feeling it or if it was your mind playing tricks, but was uncomfortable all the same.

Hubert was, as expected, unfazed. 

Bernadetta led Hubert down to the greenhouse, unlocking its oversized padlock and letting them both in. The fog crept in with them, Lysithea had done a fantastic job of it. Perhaps too good a job? It was getting hard to see any of the plants, and part of the plan needed that. 

Of course, there was no deadly nightshade in the greenhouse. Any dangerous plants were grown separate from the greenhouse, partially for the safety of students who were likely to eat a sweet-looking fruit from unidentified plants. But really, it was because those who tended it had grown tired of entering the greenhouse one morning and needing to remove any rats that had died after ingesting something terrible.

Trying to maintain some urgency, Bernadetta rushed around the corner to a small budding plant with dark fruits that appeared fully black in the moonlight. It was really a cutting from elsewhere in the greenhouse, planted to seem as though its fruits would hang to taunt you, asking ‘don’t you just want to eat me?’ If you did, you’d find the fruit was bitter and grainy, filled with far too many seeds, but certainly not poisonous.

“Oh, oh, oh no.” Bernadetta mumbled to herself, trying not to make it too obvious that she was watching for Hubert’s reaction.

“Must we prepare an antidote for those who have drunk the punch, Lady Bernadetta?”

“I, well, see here, I-” 

Bernadetta was cut off. The doors to the greenhouse had slammed shut. She yelped with fear.

It was not fake.

There was no part of the plan that involved slamming the doors. Loud noises were too cheap.

“It’s just the doors, Bernadetta.” Hubert said calmly, providing the rational explanation. Her eyes had gone wide, posture like a scared rabbit. “Here, let me open them.”

She nodded. Just get back on track, Bernie bear, she thought to herself. Bring him over to this corner, for the plan.

But the doors would not budge. It was as if they had been locked and chained together.

“Are these...nnf...always so stiff?” He grunted, using his shoulder to put more force on the door. The glass shook, but it refused to open. 

No. The doors were not stiff. They would, actually, frequently rattle when left open. It was the telltale sign somebody had forgotten to lock it up. So the doors being stuff was strange.

But the fog was rising. Pooling in the greenhouse. It had reached Bernadetta’s waist and Hubert’s hips.

“Hubert, I, uhm, this isn’t a prank or anything, I…” She mumbled, fear taking over. 

This was not part of the plan. The idea was to lead him to inspect the plant while she prepared something in the other corner. She wanted to make him think the greenhouse was filled with something sinister, plants that would corrupt their surroundings with some special cuttings she had altered the colour of with dyed water and a plant that took on the colour of the water it took in. Leaves with human-like veins, and all that. 

“I’m sure...hnnf...it isn’t…” He was still trying. The fog was creeping up their bodies now. It was thick enough that the two of them looked like floating spectres, bottom half fading into nothing. 

Something hit the glass wall of the greenhouse. Bernadetta was sure it was a ghoul. Or a zombie? She screamed once again, and ran towards Hubert.

“I’m sorry, Hubert! I didn’t mean for this, I was just putting together a plan to scare you, I-”

He looked down and saw her cowering under his cloak. Like a small animal looking for the nearest cozy hole to hide in. He smirked to himself as she panicked.

“I didn’t plan for this! I must have awakened some spirits, or a ghoul, or something! A beast is probably attacking us! And now we’re going to die, all because I wanted to scare you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Hubert, I-”

Through this, Bernadetta had been propped up against his leg when crouched down. So when he managed to unlock the door, realising he could slip a finger through the gap in the doors and push away a branch that had blocked it off, he stepped away, releasing the built-up fog and causing Bernadetta to fall on her rear.

Lysithea rushed over from her hiding spot. Edelgard and Ferdinand, the latter of which had a truly horrendous bit of makeup complete with fake hanging eye as if his had fallen out, rushed over too from their positions when they heard Bernadetta yelp. 

“Oh my gosh, Bernadetta, I’m so sorry,” Lysithea said as she reached down to help Bernadetta up. “A branch fell down in front of the doors during a gust of wind, meaning they were trapped shut. I didn’t see so I just...kept going, I didn’t realise you were trapped in with that much smoke!”

With heavy blinks, shaking her head to return back to reality rather than the embrace of death within the greenhouse, Bernadetta got up, and looked up at Hubert.

“You were trying to scare me, hm?” He asked, smirking. His gaze never left Bernadetta, to intimidate her further.

“I, uhm, sort of, yes?” She replied, shuffling close to Lysithea’s side. “I had a whole plan, with these three, Caspar, and Lindhardt…I thought you might enjoy being scared? None of us can ever scare you, and sometimes it feels nice, so I just…”

Bernadetta had started to ramble, shuffling her feet and staring at the floor. Edelgard put an arm around her.

“We helped, we just thought it would be nice to give you a scare, something to involve you, Hubert.” Edelgard clarified. “Nothing harmful, just a nice scare. Bernadetta had put this plan together for the last few weeks.”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, I appreciate the attempt. And can see how it would have worked, if, perhaps, circumstances hadn’t made it go this way. I appreciate your concern for me, Lady Bernadetta, and your healthy appreciation for horror.” 

He reached forward and patted her shoulder gently.

“But perhaps next, write me a story instead of putting yourself at risk. I trust you can all help take care of the young lady tonight? I wouldn’t want to scare her myself.” Hubert concluded, waiting for confirmation from them. 

Bernadetta shivered and nodded, leaning in to Edelgard. Hubert turned to walk away, making it a few steps before stopping and craning his head back.

“Oh, and Bernadetta?”

“Yes…?”

He snapped his fingers and lit his face with a purple flame.

“Try not to get too scared tonight.”

* * *

Conveniently, the party faded soon after. Highlights of the evening included Hilda very obviously dragging Marianne away for ‘costume adjustments,’ Manuela arriving in the most grand costume of the night, complete with Hanneman carrying the tail of her multiple-feet-too-long cloak, and Dimitri carrying around Claude during a dance. For Bernadetta, it involved a lot of hugging her friends until she was chaperoned back to her room by Ferdinand. 

It was hard for her to stop blaming herself for it, thinking she should have gone along with the circumstances instead of getting scared. But Edelgard and the others had told her to stop blaming herself for being scared. She should really stop being quite so self-deprecating, she thought. 

She took her hat off and noticed a white rectangle on the floor. A note, clearly in Hubert’s handwriting. Slipped under her door some time between the incident in the greenhouse and now, probably. Sitting at her desk, she opened it to read.

_ Lady Bernadetta,  _

_ I felt I did not make my thoughts clear enough earlier this evening. Partially as a result of surprise at your work, but also I would rather say these words in private. I’m aware of the anxieties I’d bring up if I asked to talk privately, so I believed it best to send a letter. _

_ As absurd as it sounds, I appreciate your attempt to scare me tonight. I understand many consider me terrifying, and that is certainly by design. But I am just as aware of the worth of being afraid myself. It is, as much you might find odd for me to admit, a thrill. _

_ So I would like to quite explicitly thank you. It didn’t work out, but the intent is truly, truly appreciated. _

_ If I can ever do anything for you, Lady Bernadetta, I will gladly assist. _

_  
_ _ Your friend,  _

_ Hubert von Vestra _

Upon finishing it, Bernadetta held it to her chest.

“Your friend,” she repeated to herself.

She was the one who had been scared, and the plans hadn’t nearly gone to plan, but it seemed like things had, at least, gone well. And, if anything, it at least meant she’d have another chance next year.


End file.
